


Amidst a Falling World

by Terrie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Because Eobard, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 16:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terrie/pseuds/Terrie
Summary: Cisco thought Dr. Harrison Wells was going to be his boss. He had no idea the man would have the impact on his life that he did.





	Amidst a Falling World

**Author's Note:**

> They say start the year how you want the rest of it to go. So I'm going to start it by posting a fic I had a ton of fun writing.

Cisco loved a celebration. A celebration for two friends getting engaged was even better. The bar was walking distance from the lab, and as he stumbled towards his desk in search of his keys, Cisco had the nagging suspicion that he shouldn’t drive home. He’d take a taxi. But he still needed his keys, unless he planned to sleep on his doorstep. He was tired enough that he might manage it, but he doubted it would go over well with his landlord.

He had left his keys in his desk drawer. One of his desk drawers. His desk had too many drawers. He bent to check one of the lower drawers and caught himself before he toppled over. Stupid floor needed to stay steady and stay put. Cisco lowered himself into his chair, every move careful and deliberate. 

“You’re here late.”

Cisco spun in his chair, nearly spinning past the view of the door. “Dr. Wells!”

He was drunk in front of his boss. In front of his boss’s boss’s boss. And the evening had started out so well. He straightened in his seat, trying to be surreptitious about it and failing. He gestured at his desk. “I was just looking for my keys.”

Dr. Wells stepped into the office space Cisco shared with Ronnie and two other members of the engineering team. His nose wrinkled. A tiny bunny-nose of a wrinkle. Cisco prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he was not about to be fired for being drunk at work. And Cisco might have to start going back to Church, because Dr. Wells didn’t say anything about how Cisco stank of booze. Instead he reached out and brushed thin, pale fingers along Cisco’s temple, carding fingers through his hair. “What’s this?”

He held out a small scrap of red paper. The color was so bright against Dr. Wells’ skin that Cisco found himself thinking of The Scarlet Letter from high school English. He plucked the incriminating object from the other man’s hand, hoping Dr. Wells didn’t notice that it took him two tries. “Confetti. Ronnie finally popped the question. He and Caitlin are officially engaged. We had a party. After work, I mean.”

“You're not in trouble. I mean, as long as you don't do any actual engineering while drunk. That is never a good idea. Believe me, I know.” He clapped a hand down on Cisco's shoulder, sending a jolt of weight and warmth through Cisco's body. “And congratulations to Caitlin and Ronnie. Finding someone who understands you is special and worth celebrating.”

“Yeah, lucky them.”

“You don't sound as excited as I thought you'd be.” Dr. Wells snagged a chair from one of the other desks and sat down facing Cisco. Which was awkward, because Cisco didn't want to talk about it, but was also too drunk to stop himself.

“I'm jealous. Of them. Not that I, like, want to date either of them.” He picked at a bit of lint on his pants so he wouldn't have to look at Dr. Wells. “It just sucks being alone, you know?”

His words were met with silence, long enough for the thoughts sloshing around in his brain to produce the fact that the man across from him had lost his wife years ago. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

“It's alright. And you're right. Being alone, not having anyone who understands you? Who knows who you are and where you came from? It, as you said, sucks.” Dr. Wells reached out, his hand hovering over Cisco’s knee before he pulled it back without making contact. “But there are always risks. People say I was a different person before that day. I can’t say they’re wrong.”

“Do you ever wish…” Cisco trailed off. There were too many ways to finish that sentence and all of them felt like a dangerous line to cross.

“There are a lot of things I wish were different. I suppose that’s why we’re here. Because I can’t sit idly by and accept things as they are. I have this need to shape history, to steer it down the right path.” He looked across at Cisco. “But we’re already melancholy. No need to get philosophical on top of that. You need to go home. Drink some water. Get some sleep. We both have work tomorrow, and I expect great things from you as always.”

Cisco rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. I need to call a cab. No driving for me, I think.”

“Nonsense. A cab will take forever at this time of night. I can drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

That got him a stern look, a glare of blue eyes from behind heavy frames. “I promise I’m being selfish. I want my employees in top shape, and that means not letting you waste time waiting on a cab, when there are more efficient options available. Don’t make me ask again.” 

Cisco caved under the weight of that gaze. “Thank you. Um, I also need to find my keys.”

Dr. Well’s plucked something from the mug of pens and pencils atop Cisco’s desk. “Do you mean these keys?”

***

Dante was his mother's son, with his talent for music and artistic flair. Cisco had always been the practical one, more like his father the mechanic. His father had been the one to teach him chess, in the days before it became clear that Cisco was on a different intellectual wavelength from the rest of his family. The game had come easily, but challenging opponents were not in such easy reach.

In college, chess had not been the game of choice. It had mostly been video games. It was a stereotype, but one that existed for a reason. But when Dr. Wells had asked him if he played chess, he’d said yes. And gotten his ass kicked. He’d gotten better since then. He still got his ass kicked, but now it took a little longer. Cisco stared at the board, before he reached out and tipped over his king in resignation.

Across the table from him, Dr. Wells raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to give up so easily.”

“Sorry.” Cisco yawned, feeling the crack of his jaw. “You’ve got me pinned, and I’m too damned tired to try and figure a way out of it. Might was well bow to the inevitable, you know?”

“Hmmm. I suppose I have kept you rather late. My apologies.” He started to gather up the pieces from the board.

“You know,” said Cisco, “I used to think I was good at chess.”

Dr. Wells paused, Cisco’s fallen king in his hand. “Please don’t compare yourself to me. I’ve been paying this game a great dealer longer than you have, and I hate to see you sell yourself short.” 

“But it can't be much fun for you, beating me each week.” He’d heard rumors that Dr. Wells’ previous chess partner, Hartley Rathaway, professional pain in the ass, had managed to win the occasional game. Cisco was good enough to know that, for all his improvement, he had yet to come close.

“I never considered myself a teacher. But watching your skill grow and develop, knowing that I had a hand in it… I won’t deny it’s gratifying. You have a lot of potential, Cisco. I look forward to seeing what you’ll do with it.” 

Cisco rolled a pawn between his palms. “That's a lot to live up to.”

“I think you're more than up to it.” He plucked the pawn from Cisco's hand. His fingers brushed warm against Cisco's skin. “Never doubt that you will accomplish amazing things.”

His face grew hot under the praise. With nothing in his hands to occupy him, Cisco tugged at edge of his sleeve. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” Dr. Wells asked.

“You keep saying that I'm going to do all this stuff.”

“Because I know you will.” He bent over the chessboard, putting each piece in its place. He looked up, locked eyes with Cisco. “You just need to know it as well.”

***

Dr. Wells collapsed into his chair like his strings had been cut. Cisco watched him from across the chessboard. His head tilted back. His eyes dropped closed. “I want a drink. But I can't remember. Does etiquette these days require I offer you one as well?”

“You act like you’re from a different era. You’re not that old.”

“I'm not? Well, that's something at least.” His head rolled to one side, the only part of his body that moved, so he was looking at Cisco. “But I am very tired. And I still don't know if I need to offer you a drink.”

“I think you're supposed to offer. But if you have a drink, and I don't, maybe I'll have a chance to hold my own, for once.” Cisco fingered the white queen on his side of the board. He ran his thumb over the crown, tracing the ridges. 

Dr. Wells’ eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “I hope I’m not such a cheap date that one drink would do me in. Still, let’s find out.”

Cisco watched Dr. Wells drag himself out of his chair and over to the cabinet where he kept a small selection of liquor for important visitors. He filled a glass half full, which struck Cisco as a lot more than you were supposed to have. Dr. Wells took a long drink, his head tipped back, then looked over at Cisco. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“I’m good. Long day?”

Dr. Well’s topped off his glass before returning to sit across from Cisco. “Grodd.”

“Grodd?”

“Gorilla Research Department Of Defense. One typo on the abbreviation and now our research subject has a new name.” With a clink of glass on glass, he set his drink down next to the chessboard. “This research… It’s not why I founded STAR Labs. It’s not what I wanted. But I don’t have a choice.”

“You’ve pulled the plug on projects before.” Cisco had sat through more than one cafeteria lunchtime rant from someone who had come in one morning to find their work was now obsolete. 

“Those were dead ends. I can promise you they were never going anywhere. This, though. This one has potential. This one will be something.” He picked up two pawns, one white, one black, and shook them in his hands. He held out two fists to Cisco. “Plus, we need the funding. Pick one.”

Cisco tapped the back of one of Dr. Wells's hands. The hand opened, showing the white pawn in the palm of his hand. “Advantage to you, Mr. Ramon. I expect you to make the most of it.”

Cisco lost. But it was close. 

Dr. Wells tapped a finger against his glass, making it chime. “One drink and my game goes to shit. I guess I'm a cheap date after all.”

“Pretty sure the bottomless glass you've been rocking counts as more than one drink.”

“That is…” He lifted the glass to eye level and scrutinized it. “That is very possible.”

He stood abruptly. “I don't want any more whiskey. Has anyone ever told you the correct way to pour brandy?”

Cisco regathered his thoughts from where the switch in topic had scattered them. “I… No. I don’t think my dad drinks anything but beer.”

“We need to remedy that. Come.” He motioned Cisco to follow him to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the office. There, he picked up a bottle, a different one than from before. He held it where Cisco could see it. “Brandies are all about complexity. The aroma is key.”

Cisco learned against the cabinet as Dr. Wells walked him through pouring the perfect glass of brandy. He tried to focus on the words, but what caught his attention was Dr. Wells’ smile. It tugged at the corners of his mouth, giving an occasional glimpse of what the full thing would look like. It held his gaze until Dr. Wells placed the belled glass into his hand. 

“Go on. Like I showed you.”

Under Dr. Well’s watchful eye, Cisco swirled the amber liquid around the glass, inhaling the aroma. After several moments, he took a sip. 

“Well?”

Cisco considered the flavors on his tongue. “Honestly? I like it, but I have no idea what I'm supposed to be tasting.”

The resulting laugh warmed Cisco’s belly more than the liquor did.

***

“I appreciate your willingness to keep me company. Especially on a Friday night. Isn't this usually date night?”

Cisco looked up from the chess board. “Sure. If you can get someone to go on a date with you. I haven't had much luck in that area. So I guess I can say thank you, Dr. Wells, for keeping me company. I mean, you're handsome, rich, famous. You'd have no trouble finding a date.”

“This is my home, Cisco, not the office. I've told you to call me Harrison. I get enough Dr. Wells at work.” He took one of Cisco’s knights with his queen. “And I don’t have any interest in finding a date. The present company is more than enough for me.”

Cisco couldn’t stop his own lip from curving upward in response. “So I’ve been thinking.”

“A highly recommended activity.”

“About what you said the other day.” He rushed forward before Dr. Wells – Harrison – can break in with a comment about how he said many things the other day. “When you said you’d never seen any of the Godfather movies. Is that true?”

“I wouldn't waste my time lying about something so trivial.”

“Trivial? It's The Godfather! That’s, like, whatever the opposite of trivial is.”

“Essential.”

“Yes,” said Cisco. “Essential. That is a good word. So what I was thinking was that I own The Godfather on DVD. I actually own the whole trilogy. I could bring it over next time, and we could watch it. Fill some of those holes in your essential movie watching.”

Harrison drummed his fingers against his knee. “I suppose chess gets old after a while.”

“I like chess. I like playing chess with you.” Cisco frowned down at the board. He advanced one of his pawns. “Sometimes, I can almost see the possibilities. A tiny universe where I can see the future.”

“I look forward to seeing that, when you finally make that leap.”

“Yeah. But a little variety is nice, too. And you have to see The Godfather, even if you don’t see it with me. It's non-optional.”

“Essential,” murmured Harrison. He folded his hands, index fingers steepled and tapped them against his lips. “Very well. Next time, no chess. We’ll give your movie a try, see how that goes.”

“Really?” asked Cisco.

“I just said so, didn’t I?”

Cisco grinned, wide enough that he could feel it in his cheeks. Cisco measured himself against the older man in so many ways that it was a heady experience to be the guide, even if it was one movie. “Awesome.”

***

Harrison opened the door and cocked his head to one side. “Am I not paying you enough that you’ve taken up moonlighting?”

“What?” Cisco followed the motion of Harrison’s’ hand to the pizza he was holding. “Oh, I ran into the pizza guy on my way in.”

He stepped inside, heading towards the kitchen, when Harrison said, “Wait a moment.”

Harrison reached around to the back of Cisco's neck. He pushed aside Cisco's hair and fiddled with his collar. “Your tag is sticking out.” Cisco froze, until Harrison brushed his hair back into place. “There you go. Sorry, but that’s one of those things that drives me nuts.”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, trying to erase the feeling of phantom fingers the touch had left behind. “It’s fine. We’ve all got our things, right?” 

“And what are yours?”

“Wheels that stick on grocery carts, on/off switches on the back of electronics, because who wants to give a reach around to the printer, and the smell of banana peels in the garbage.”

“Excellent choices, all of them.” He lifted the pizza from Cisco’s hands. “If you want to gets plates, I'll get drinks. Beer ok?”

“Beer is fine.” Cisco kicked off his shoes and followed Harrison in the kitchen. He grabbed two plates, handed one to Harrison, then dropped a slice of pizza on his own, before jamming a second slice in his mouth.

“Hungry?”

Cisco forced himself to swallow before answering. “God, yes. I missed lunch today. I've got this boss who expects us to perform miracles.”

“And yet you always seem to come through, so it seems my faith is not without merit.” He clasped a hand to Cisco's shoulder and gave a squeeze that made Cisco stand a little straighter. “That having been said, I don't like to hear that you're skipping meals. Does your team need more resources?”

“One time thing only, I swear. I had a breakthrough around eleven and rode it through to the end of the day.”

“Are you sure? Because I have an in with your boss.”

The smile he gave Cisco made the corners of his eye crinkle behind his glasses. The urge to lean into Harrison's lingering touch struck Cisco, and he made himself take a step away. “Come on. I promised you The Godfather.”

The living room had an abundance of seating, but the couch was positioned best to see the TV. They ended up sitting side-by-side, Harrison slouched into his seat and Cisco with his feet propped up on the coffee table. Cisco started out watching Harrison more than the movie, trying to gauge his response. But it was The Godfather and before long, his attention was fixed on the screen. When some brushed against his shoulder, he startled. Only luck prevented his beer from going everywhere.

“Sorry.” Harrison eased his arm off the back of the couch where it had knocked against Cisco. “The downside of being tall. My limbs seem to go everywhere.”

“It’s fine. Now that I know it’s not a giant spider.” He leaned back against the cushions where Harrison’s elbow still rested. “Stretch out if you need to. It’s a long movie.”

Harrison lower his arm back into place like he was afraid any sudden movements would cause something to break. He watched Cisco, until Cisco nudged him with an elbow and pointed to the screen. “You’re missing it.”

Harrison relaxed back into the cushions as his attention focused back on the movie. “How long is this movie anyway?”

“Three hours.” The resulting choking noise made Cisco smirk. “Second one’s three and a half.”

The room was warm, or maybe it was just the belly full of pizza and beer. At some point, Cisco’s eyes drifted shut, and he slumped to the side. He missed the second half of the movie, only coming to when Harrison shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find his head rested back against the cushions, tipped so that his hair brushed against Harrison’s arm, still stretched across the back of the couch. Cisco straightened, careful to keep from leaning any further into Harrison’s personal space as he did so. He rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “Gah. I think I’m actually more tired after that. Is the movie over?”

“Even the credits. Skipping lunch, sleeping through the movie. Are you sure I'm not working you too hard?” He put the back of his hand to Cisco’s forehead, as though checking him for fever. “I can move the deadline on your current project if you need it.”

Cisco swatted the hand away. He was still groggy from falling asleep and had to stop himself from putting real force behind the movement. Hitting your boss was not okay, even when he was being annoying. “Dude, I'm fine. One long day does not mean I'm being worked to death.”

“I hope not. The real push comes later. And I need you in top shape when that time comes, because I'll be depending on you.”

“I’m one guy on a whole team.”

In the dim light of the TV screen, Harrison smiled. “True. But you’re the one I need.”

***

Movies did not replace chess. They supplemented it. There was a comfort in returning to the routine and the defined movement of the pieces. They played at the kitchen table, an expanse of blond wood large enough for the board, the detritus of their meal, and their remaining drinks. Cisco tapped one of the pawns he had claimed from Harrison against the table in time with his thoughts. Harrison sighed. “I have a game clock. It’s somewhere around here. Maybe I should go get it. If you’re going to take this long on every move, this game will take all night.”

Cisco rolled his eyes and set the pawn down. With a single move of his hand, he sent his bishop slashing across the board. Harrison looked over the board, then sat up straighter in his chair. “Now that was an interesting choice.”

“Good interesting or bad interesting?”

“That depends on which side of the board you’re sitting on.” Harrison leaned forward, his chin resting against his folded hands. His eyes focused on the board. “You’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you?”

Cisco wasn’t sure if the comment was directed at him or if Harrison was talking to himself. After that, the game moved more quickly, as if Cisco had been fighting his way uphill and finally reached the peak, coasting down and picking up speed as he did. And then he stopped, his hand hovering over the board. He searched for the mistake, because he must have missed something. No matter how he looked, he couldn’t find it. With a shaking hand, he made his move. He looked up from the board to find Harrison watching him, not the pieces. He smiled at Cisco, soft and fond, before saying, “Check mate.”

Cisco didn’t remember standing, but he heard the clatter of chair behind him. “Holy shit.”

Harrison came around the table and righted Cisco’s chair. “Congratulations. It’s a well-earned victory.”

“Holy shit,” Cisco repeated. He stared down at the board, confirming that it was all real. He turned and flung his arms around Harrison’s waist. “Thank you.”

Harrison stood frozen and stiff, before a light hand came to rest on Cisco’s back. “I don’t see why you’re thanking me. You’re the one who did all the work to get here.”

Cisco released him and took a step. He smiled up at Harrison, feeling it stretch across his cheeks. He had no doubt that he looked inane, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but they met halfway. Harrison’s lips were dry against his and a little salty from dinner. Cisco pushed up onto his toes to put more force before it, only for Harrison to jerk away. “This is inappropriate.”

Cisco lowered himself back down until his feet were flat to the floor. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I didn’t mean you. I meant me. I’m your boss. I can’t be pressuring you into something like this.”

“I must have missed the part where you pressured me.”

Harrison’s expression was pained. “If we were to do this and someone were to find out, at best, I would be the villain who tricked you to get what I wanted. At worst, it would make people deny everything you’ve accomplished. People like your parents.”

“They do that anyway. They’d say something like this explained a lot.” Cisco stumbled back a few steps and sat down in the chair Harrison had righted only a few moments before. “If you’re not interested, you can say it. I’m not going to go running to HR to tattle or anything. We’ll just chalk it up to the adrenaline of the moment. Something like that.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m making excuses. Do you think I’d spend so much time in your company if I didn’t enjoy it? But the choices we make have consequences and you can’t go back and undo them.” Harrison knelt down so they were on the same level. He locked eyes with Cisco. “So I need to know you understand the risks. That you’re not going to panic and run later on because it’s too much.”

Cisco leaned forward, so their faces were only inches apart. “If I were afraid of risk, I wouldn’t work on a particle accelerator that has the power to kill everyone in this city if things go wrong.”

“We are not going to kill everyone in the city.”

“That is so not the point, dude.” 

“Don’t call me dude.” His eyes searched Cisco’s face. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Shakespeare.” That received a look of confusion. Cisco said, “Ninth grade English. Romeo and Juliet. _Give me my sin again_.”

He took Cisco’s face in his hands. Their second kiss was long, steady pressure. When Cisco parted his lips, Harrison pulled back. He brushed his thumbs along Cisco’s cheeks. “We need to take this slow. Whatever else, I’m still your boss. We can’t tell anyone. And I have to be careful not to play favorites.”

“People already think you play favorites. But after what happened to Hartley, no one wants to be the favorite. The phrase ‘impossibly high expectations’ gets used a lot.” 

“Mr. Rathaway.” Harrison stood. “His talent is almost as big as the chip on his shoulder. I had a great many hopes for him. His pride meant that none of them came to pass. Hartley’s issues aside, I’m not joking, Cisco. We need to be careful. It might be a good idea if you went home. Not that I want to kick you out, but we could both use some time to think.”

Cisco frowned. “Did you and Hartley ever…?”

“What? No.” A grimace passed over Harrison’s face. “He is a very different man from you, and our relationship was also different. If I wanted you to be Hartley Rathaway, he'd be the one standing here.” He brushed fingers along Cisco's jaw.

Cisco leaned into the touch. “But you still want me to go.”

“Only so you can come back again.” He pulled Cisco close and captured Cisco's mouth with his own. It was the kiss Cisco had been waiting for. Forceful, with tongue and teeth. Cisco hung on, taking whatever he was given, until Harrison broke away. He stepped back and wiped a hand across his mouth. “Ok, that’s enough.”

“No need to stop on my account.”

“Don’t get greedy. I said I want to take this slow.” There was an edge to his voice, annoyance and warning. Cisco didn’t want to know what would happen if he kept pushing, so he nodded his acquiescence. Harrison gave Cisco’s shoulders a squeeze. “That’s good.” 

The praise undid the tension in Cisco’s spine. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

***

“Dr. Wells?” Cisco hovered in the doorway until Dr. Wells looked up from his work. Cisco held up a stack of papers. “I have those records you wanted.”

“Bring them here.” 

Cisco set them down on the desk. He watched Dr. Wells flip through the stack. Dr. Wells looked up. “You know, there's nothing here that requires your input.”

“I know. But if I go back to my desk, Ronnie is going to ask me about wedding colors again, and I can't take anymore of that.” 

“So you want to hide in my office and distract me from my work. That's quite the favor you’re asking for.” Despite the words, he gestured to one of chairs that littered the office. 

“More like I'm doing you a favor by not killing your head engineer.” 

Dr. Wells set aside the papers Cisco had brought. “Hmmm. That would hinder our progress somewhat. Even setting aside the need to replace Ronnie after his unfortunate demise, there would be police and forensic personnel everywhere, interrupting everyone’s work. Unless you confessed and spared us the disruptive investigation.”

“If I’m going to go to the trouble of killing him, I want the police to work for it. I feel like it cheapens the process if they show up for a dead body and I tell them ‘Hey, it was me, with a wrench in sub-basement three.’”

“Sub-basement three is mostly water and sewer lines. And the ones for the bathrooms, not the coolant systems. Nothing to do with Ronnie’s areas of expertise. So how do you get him down there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I kill him somewhere else and move the body,” Cisco said. “I thought the point was for me to not kill Ronnie. How did we get to planning how I’d pull it off?”

“You think you’d get away with it? With that plan? It’s not even a plan.” Dr. Wells gave a disappointed shake of his head. “I’m afraid you have a long way to go before you’re any sort of criminal mastermind.”

“Darn. And that was my backup if engineering didn’t work out.”

“I’ll think you’ll be fine.” He turned back to his papers and gave Cisco a wave of his hand. “Back to work, Mr. Ramon.”

***

The movie played on in the background, but Cisco didn't hear it. He heard the ragged breaths of Harrison in his ear, punctuated by sharp gasps as Cisco worked his mouth along the older man's neck.

“Don't leave marks.”

Cisco trailed his lips up to his ear, before he repeated, “No marks.”

“That's good. Feels good.” His hand, at the small of Cisco's back, pulled Cisco forward. Cisco rocked against the thigh he straddled. The movement set off the best feelings, and he let Harrison coax him into repeating it. The delicate bites he laid along Cisco’s jaw made a delicious counterpoint. He wrapped a hand in Cisco’s hair and pulled back, until the line of his neck was taut and exposed. “You’re so good for me, Cisco.”

Cisco’s hips rolled hard against Harrison’s thigh and his body seized. Even his vocal cords went tight, so the only sound that escaped was a single grunt. Harrison released his hold, and Cisco slumped in place. He stared down at Harrison, shame and fear battling in his body. His eyes felt huge in his head, opened so wide they might fall out. He'd never realized it was possible to feel hot and cold at the same time.

“Did you just…?” At Cisco’s stuttering nod, Harrison smirked. “You needy little slut.”

Cisco was going to cry. He was going to cry frustrated, angry tears, like the fourteen year old boy he apparently was. He scrambled out of Harrison's lap, though the cooling, sticky mess in his pants followed him. A firm grip on his wrist kept him from fleeing. He stood, anchored in place by Harrison's hold on him. Harrison tugged him back. “Don't go. I didn’t intend to upset you.”

Cisco kept his eyes fixed on his feet, brown against the grays of the rug. If he looked up, if he met Harrison’s eyes, he’d give in, as easy as breathing. But even that resistance was only a token. He let Harrison pull him back in, where he gathered Cisco’s face in his hand. Cisco closed his eyes against the sight of the other man. Harrison placed kisses along Cisco’s cheeks. “You’re so good. So perfect. Do you know that? How special you are?”

Under Harrison’s words, Cisco’s stomach twisted, but the sour edge of earlier was faded. The hold on his face prevented him from hiding. He opened his eyes to meet Harrison’s gaze, the blue intense and locked on him. Harrison said, “You did nothing wrong. I like knowing that I can make you so desperate and undone, but if it bothers you, I won’t say it again. Whatever you need.”

Cisco squirmed. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, except that he wanted away from his body, with its mess and lack of control. He wanted to erase the last several minutes. Harrison stroked a hand over his head and said, “Stay. I can see you getting lost inside that beautiful head of yours. Stay and let me distract you.”

“You really think I’m beautiful?” The wobble in his voice made him cringe.

“Gorgeous.” Fingers trailed over Cisco’s cheekbones, then up along his hairline, until Harrison tucked a stray strand of hair behind Cisco’s ear. “You have no idea what a rare thing you are. I could search a hundred years or more and not find your equal. Stay. I’ll get you some sweatpants. You can clean up. And then nothing has to happen. Nothing will happen that you don’t want. I’m not ready for you to go, not yet.”

It was the thought of driving home in his current state that made up his mind. He’d get cleaned up and then he’d decide. The sweatpants Harrison gave him were navy, probably intended to match the STAR Labs sweatshirts, like the one at home in Cisco’s closet. He had to cuff the bottoms of the legs before he could move. For lack of any other idea, he wrapped his boxers up in his slacks, rolling them up into bundle he could carry.

Harrison was waiting for him in the hall outside the bathroom. His eyes flicked down, making Cisco want to hike up the overly longs pants. Harrison lifted up a hand. He reached out to touch Cisco's arm, but stopped halfway there and stuck both his hands in his pockets. “Better?”

“Yeah,” said Cisco. He shuffled bare feet against the floor. He’d taken his shoes off when he’d arrived, but had no idea where he’d lost his socks. “I guess I should head home.” 

“You don’t have to go. Not if you don’t want to. We could put your things in the laundry.” When Cisco said nothing, he added, “I’d feel better knowing you weren’t on the road this late.”

Cisco gave in. He was tired, and it was easier to go along with Harrison’s concern than to fight it. The laundry was around the corner from the bathroom. Cisco got the load started. Harrison pointed down the hall. “So the guest room is on the right… And my room is on the left. It’s up to you. I think I’ve done enough pushing for one day.”

Harrison looked as tired as Cisco felt, his postured slumped, hands shoved in his pockets. Cisco considered the options. He went left, Harrison trailing behind him. The bed was a sprawling king. “Which side do you…?”

“I tend to end up in the middle. Pick a side, and I will accommodate.”

Cisco ran a hand over the bed. The sheets were expensive, managing to be cool and crisp, but soft at the same time. He picked the side away from the door, feeling too exposed without something between him and the rest of the world. He threw back the blankets, then glanced at Harrison. There was no judgement, and Cisco climbed in under the blankets. He rolled over to watch Harrison and hugged one of the many pillows to his chest.

Harrison reached down and grabbed the edge of his shirt, then he hesitated. “I usually just sleep in my boxers.”

Cisco licked at his lower lip. “I mean, it's your home, your bed. You should be comfortable.”

Harrison pulled his shirt over his head in a single, smooth movement. Cisco's heart thudded in his chest. It was a lot of skin on display. The man’s arms were absurd. Cisco's own arms tightened around the pillow he was holding to stop him from reaching out and touching. Harrison's hands went to his belt, and Cisco rolled back to face the wall. He heard the pants hit the floor, and then the bed shifted under the weight of a second person. Cisco's breath came in short bursts. A bare arm hovered over him. Harrison asked, “May I?”

“I… yeah.” At the first touch, Cisco stiffened. But nothing happened. The arm was a steady weight around his waist, and Harrison was a line of warmth at his back. Eventually, Cisco could no longer fight sleep.

***

Cisco woke up alone. Mornings were not his thing, and it took him a moment to remember where he was and why he wasn’t supposed to be alone. Not that Harrison could have abandoned Cisco, since it was his own house. Cisco had known people who were that passive-aggressive, but Harrison Wells was not one of them.

He untangled himself from the sheets. He stretched out morning-stiff muscles, hiked up his borrowed sweats, and headed out to find Harrison. His path through the house took him past the laundry room. The dryer was running. He stopped to confirm that it was his things, and blushed to the roots of his hair. Because what he needed before he’d even had his coffee was a reminder of the way he’d come in his pants like he had no self-control.

Up to that moment, it had been good. Last night had been the farthest they’d gotten. They’d been taking it slow, but Cisco wouldn’t have minded a little more speed. Or any speed at all. At least until Cisco had gone off way too fast.

He fanned his face with one hand, until his burning cheeks cooled. He couldn’t avoid Harrison. Even if he managed to sneak out of the house, he’d have to face the man at work. Which was a downside to dating your boss that Hollywood had failed to prepare him for. Once he had himself under control, he found Harrison in the kitchen.

Cisco was used to see him in his suits at work. Even most evenings, he removed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. This morning, he wore a pair of worn jeans and a black sweater. It was a good look. “Hey.”

“Good morning. You’re up.” Harrison turned and wiped his hands on a dish towel. “I hope you like toast. I wanted to make you breakfast, but I can’t cook.”

“As long as there is coffee, I will eat cardboard.”

Harrison pressed a warm mug into Cisco’s hands. “There’s sugar on the table. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy a perfectly decent cup of coffee with that much sugar.”

“There’s nothing wrong with how I take my coffee.” He spooned three heaping spoons into the mug before taking a sip. He closed his eyes to better appreciate the bitter-sweet that rolled over his tongue.

“So, about last night…”

Cisco groaned. “Can we please not revisit my humiliation?” 

“I was just going to say that it was nice. Having you stay. And I wouldn’t mind doing it deliberately next time.”

Cisco peeked out from behind his hands, where he had hidden his face. “For real?”

“Yes, ‘for real.’” He reached out and pulled Cisco’s hands away from his face. “I would have like the first time you stayed to be more like that, but things happen. So I want to do it right this time.”

Something inside Cisco twisted at the thought of what had happened, even as the rest of him warmed under Harrison’s gaze. The blue glowed. It drew Cisco in, like the metaphor about moths to flames, except that moths were nocturnal, and the kitchen was bathed in morning sunlight. It highlighted Harrison’s face with gold. And Cisco’s thoughts were getting away from him. “Next time, I want to wake up next to you.”

“I’d like that, too.” He placed his own coffee mug on the counter next to the sink. “You know, there’s no reason we have to wait for for some arbitrary next time.”

The coffee hadn’t reached Cisco’s brain. “What?”

“We can go back to bed. Later, we can wake up next to each other. What rule says we can’t?” He came up behind where Cisco sat at the table and put his hands on Cisco’s shoulders, pressing down in a steady, heavy weight as he leaned down and said in Cisco’s ear, “I didn’t get where I am today by bowing to convention.”

Cisco didn’t manage to beat him back to the bedroom, but it was close.

***

“I am so tired.” The words came out as a whimper. Cisco flopped down face-first on couch. If the cushions smothered him, that was fine. It meant he could get some sleep.

“One week to go.” Harrison dropped a bag from Big Belly Burger on the coffee table. “And don’t fall asleep. We only get an hour for lunch.”

Cisco rolled over onto his back, stretching out across the length of the couch. “I have an in with the boss. We can afford to run a little late.”

“Don’t be a brat.” Harrison picked up Cisco’s feet and dumped them on the floor, sitting down in the space he had freed up. “We’re so close. Every minute counts now.”

“If that’s true, then why did we come all the way to your place for lunch? Please tell me this isn’t one of those hungry for something besides food things, because I am way too tired for sex right now.” Cisco pushed himself upright with a groan and settled into his end of the couch. 

“As much as I enjoy having my wicked way with you, now is not the time. And we came here, because as much as it shames me to admit it, I was about to start screaming if I didn’t get out of there for at least a moment.”

“That might have been entertaining, in an unprofessional way.”

“We’re so close, Cisco. So close to everything I’ve been working towards.” He gripped Cisco’s hands in his own, tight enough to near painful. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Cisco tugged his hands free and poked Harrison in the thigh with one foot. “Actually, I try not to think about that. Because if I do, then I remember that I wasn’t more than ten when you started this whole thing, and our whole relationship seems sordid.” 

“Right.” Harrison rolled his eyes. “The man who pursued a relationship with his boss is worried the age difference is what might make this sordid. Here, eat your lunch. There’s still work to do and less and less time to do it in.”

Cisco unwrapped the offered burger. “Should I be worried you’re going to leave me for the particle accelerator?”

“Let’s see. On the one hand, we have my life’s work. On the other hand, a brilliant and gorgeous young engineer. I’m thinking polyamorous threesome.”

“The stress has officially broken your brain.” He reached over to grab some of Harrison’s fries. “In other relationship news, Ronnie and Caitlin have set a date. June eleventh. A celebration of their love and six months of scientific advancements.”

“Congratulations to them. I expect an invitation.”

Cisco leaned over and kissed him. “It wouldn’t be a celebration without you.”

***

Cisco rolled off Harrison. He hit the mattress with a thud that drove the air from his lungs. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Either-or.” Cisco rolled over into Harrison's side. They both smelled like sweat and sex. Cisco traced the lines of Harrison's chest with an idle fingers. The skin under his hand was cooling as the sweat dried, and Cisco laid his palm flat to try and capture of of the remaining warmth. “How are you feeling?”

Harrison stretched beneath Cisco’s hand. “Good. Not wound quite so tight. Though, under the circumstances, I don’t think I can be blamed for being a little tense.”

“A little, yeah, but you were about ready to climb the walls.” Cisco dredged up the energy to raise his head and kiss him. “I get it. This time tomorrow, everything changes. But you’ve slept less than five hours in the last two days. I get tired just looking at you.”

“Hmmm.” He stroked Cisco’s hair, a soothing gesture that brought Cisco’s eyelids to half-mast in moments. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m trying not to. That was the point of this.” He gestured between them. 

“Is it working?”

“Not really.” Cisco scrubbed a hand over his face. “I keep going through everything I need to do in the morning. I’ve got a checklist, but what if something’s missing from the list, you know? Or what if something goes wrong that has nothing to do with the particle accelerator? Like, what if anti-science terrorists break in and take us hostage because they’ve listened to one too many conspiracy theory about how turning it on will create a black hole.”

Harrison snorted. “I promise, that is not going to happen.”

“It’s not likely, I’ll grant you, but it is possible.” He rested his head against Harrison’s shoulder. “And then I think about what happens if it works.”

“You have no idea, Cisco, of what we’ll learn. Tomorrow will be the start of everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should the whole frame of Nature round him break,  
> In ruin and confusion hurled,  
> He, unconcerned, would hear the mighty crack,  
> And stand secure amidst a falling world.  
> \- Joseph Addison, in a translation of Horace, Odes, Book III, ode iii.
> 
> Now tell me that doesn’t sound like season 1 EoWells.


End file.
